


Home on the Range

by MissLit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Injury Recovery, M/M, Slow Burn, Yakuza Genji Shimada, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada, farm au, slight genji/angela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 04:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLit/pseuds/MissLit
Summary: Yakuza brothers Hanzo and Genji escape the clutches of a rival gang only to stumble on the quiet farm of loner Jesse McCree. With Hanzo wounded, they realize they have no choice but to stay, at least at first. But McCree's kindness begins to go further than expected.





	Home on the Range

“In here,” Genji hissed, dragging his injured brother along. The fields whipped past them as Hanzo held his breath, trying hard not to cry out in pain as every movement, every blade of the plants around them beat the wound in his side. The only light they had was the moon above and the occasional flashlight rays that passed over the farmland to either side of them.  
  
“This way!” one voice cried, several others responding in a chorus of shouts. They were getting closer. 

Hanzo was about to demand where Genji was leading them when he saw it in the distance; a barn. Gritting his teeth, he urged Genji on faster.  
  
As they slipped into the barn, the voices began to fade behind them. Hanzo collapsed in a corner while Genji kept an eye to a crack in the wall, waiting silently as their pursuers turned in a different direction and gradually disappeared from sight.

“They’re gone,” Genji murmured, stepping over to Hanzo’s side. “Let me see.” 

Moving his hand away from the wound, Hanzo replied, “It isn’t that serious.” Still, he let Genji patch him up, being sure to listen for their pursuers. As Genji worked, he heard nothing but silence.

It wasn’t like back home. There were animals shifting in the dark, crickets and owls chirping outside. A wind picked up, causing the stalks of grain to whistle with song. Despite the circumstances, he found it comforting. 

“We should rest here for the night,” Genji said as he finished. He took a seat next to Hanzo, resting his head on the barn’s wall. 

“No, we need to keep moving,” Hanzo argued. But when he tried to sit forward he let out a grunt and was forced back. 

Genji snorted, letting his eyes slip closed. “Good night, brother.”

The finality of Genji’s statement made Hanzo relax. Normally, he would have set up a watch, but with his injury he was sure he’d awaken before anyone could come to disturb them. So, he tilted his head back and fell into a fitful sleep. 

\---

“Hey.”

Hanzo’s eyes shot open at the unfamiliar voice, but before he could do anything else he found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Genji’s hands were already raised to his shoulders and Hanzo slowly did the same.  
  
“G’mornin’,” the voice greeted, and the Shimada brothers’ eyes traveled up the barrel to a rugged, tired-looking face. 

A silence stretched between the trio before the man quirked an eyebrow at them. “Well, ya got anythin’ to say for yourselves?”  
  
“Forgive us,” Genji spoke first. “We were passing through here and needed a place to sleep. My brother is injured. We will leave as soon as you are willing to let us.” 

Slowly, the shotgun was lowered. “I see. Beggin’ your pardon, but around here you don’t sleep anywhere for free. But it’s not polite to let a man’s wounds go untended, neither.” He looked thoughtful a moment before giving the pair a serious look. “I’ll make a deal with you. How about you stay with me until you’re healed, and in exchange you’ll do some chores for me around the farm.”  
  
Hanzo gritted his teeth. “We don’t have time for this kind of--”  
  
“Or if you’d rather,” the man interrupted. “I could call the sheriff and be done with you. I’m sure a couple’a strangers who appeared in the night with mysterious wounds would be mighty interesting to him.”

The brothers fell quiet, glancing at one another. 

“So? What do you say? I’ll keep your secrets, feed you, and give you a better bed than some stale hay, and you do a little bit of work for me. Sound like a deal?” He held a hand out to Hanzo first. 

Staring the hand down, Hanzo reluctantly placed his own in it, giving it a short but firm shake. “Very well,” he responded. 

“Well alright then.” The man passed his hand over to Genji who shook it, too. “And uh… What can I call the pair of you?”  
  
“I am Genji,” Genji said before Hanzo could speak. “And this is my brother, Hanzo.” Clearly, he didn’t want to tell this stranger their family name.

The man stepped aside and motioned to the barn door. “Name’s McCree. Why don’t you come inside for some breakfast?”

\---

McCree was a strange man. He lived alone, so far as Hanzo could tell, but he kept his small home tidy. He had a spare room which he let the brothers share and cooked them a good breakfast in the mornings. He was up before the sun but didn’t sleep until late. And though he appeared to own a rather large plot of land he didn’t have anyone come to work for him. 

On their first day there, McCree asked them to help him in the fields. By help, what he’d meant was for them to pick ripened vegetables by hand, which took most of the afternoon. When the sun began to set, Genji’s hand froze mid-pull of a carrot as a bell rang from the direction of the house. 

“Did he say when we should be done?” Genji asked, straightening. 

“That could be what the bell is for,” Hanzo replied. They gathered the fruits of their labor and trudged across the field back to the house. McCree was waiting for them outside. 

“I ain’t never seen anybody walk so slowly toward a dinner bell,” he remarked.

The brothers exchanged a glance. “Dinner bell?” Genji asked.

McCree snorted, nodding to the house. “Yeah, what’d you think all that noise was for? C’mon.” They started to make their way inside but suddenly McCree stopped them.

“Hey hey. Boots off,” he ordered. “And wash up at the spigot outside.” 

“Yes sir,” the brothers said, doing as they were told. Once they were cleaned up McCree happily let them in where they could finally smell what he’d made. 

“Hope y’all like fried chicken,” McCree said as he had a seat at the head of the table. 

They sat eating in silence, but the whole time Hanzo was giving McCree sideways glances. Finally, McCree set his utensils down. “If you’re wonderin’ when I’m gonna start asking questions the answer is that I’m not,” he offered. 

“I find that hard to believe,” Hanzo retorted. 

McCree chuckled, holding his hands up. “Lookee here. Y’all haven’t asked me why I’m out here with a farm on my own, so as far as I see it fair is fair.” Genji gave Hanzo a look that told him he’d been wondering that exact thing and now felt he couldn’t ask. “But then again… If you did want some answers you’ll have to know that I’ll be asking questions in return.”

Though he didn’t like the idea of someone prying, Hanzo did have questions. 

“How do you know you can trust us?” he asked, looking McCree in the eye. “We broke into your barn, yet you allowed us into your home. You’ve fed us, given us a proper place to sleep. All in exchange for some yard work?”  
  
Humming, McCree gave Hanzo a little wink. “That’s what we like to call Southern Hospitality, friend.” 

“I hardly think that hospitality justifies your actions, Mr. McCree,” Hanzo grumbled. 

“Would you rather I kicked y’all out?”

Genji quickly said, “No.”

“Well then, I suppose that’s your answer, isn’t it?” Though McCree went back to eating the brothers did not, watching him until he paused with a spoonful halfway to his mouth. “Uh… What now?”

“What is _ your _ question?” Genji asked. 

“I s’pose I’ll have to think of one,” McCree replied with a grin. 

Once they’d finished eating McCree insisted the brothers wash up the dishes. “I cook, you clean. It’s only fair,” he argued. However, he didn’t stay idle. Hanzo watched out the kitchen window as McCree trudged across the grass to the barn, slipping inside. 

Once their work was finished, the brothers disappeared to their shared room. 

“Do you think he suspects?” Genji asked, voice low. 

Hanzo was seated by the door, listening for McCree. “I doubt it. He talks big but he seems very… Country.” He wasn’t sure how else to put it. 

“Would it hurt for us to stay another few nights?”

Confused, Hanzo shot the other a look. “Why would you want to stay? I’m well enough that we can move along, there’s no need for further delays.”

Genji shrugged. “Maybe it’s best we stay for now. What if they’re waiting just outside the farm’s perimeter for us? We should think of an escape plan before we start going. And you may have healed a bit but I don’t think you’re completely ready for such a thing, brother.” 

Hanzo hated to admit that Genji was right. Crouching down to harvest had put a strain on his wound, and running wouldn’t help that either. “One more night,” he sighed, standing. “But that’s it. We need to take what we know back to Father.” 

Early the next morning, Hanzo shot up when he heard their bedroom door open. McCree paused, holding up a bucket to show him what he’d been there for. “Wanna help?” he whispered. 

After dressing, Hanzo followed McCree back out to the barn, stifling a yawn. 

“This here’s Betsy,” McCree said, walking over to the solitary cow in the barn. He gave her side a pat before setting a stool down beside her. “You ever milked a cow before?”

“That is one thing I cannot say I have done,” Hanzo admitted. 

“Well, I can either teach you how or you can go to the chicken coop and gather eggs for me.” 

Hanzo pondered a moment before deciding to stay. He watched McCree’s deft fingers, trying to study the movements for when his turn came, but his studies were interrupted. 

“You’re awful quiet, ain’tcha?” 

“I suppose,” Hanzo replied, softly. 

“It’s alright, I understand.” McCree shot him a half smile. “We all got secrets, though. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” Hanzo couldn’t hold back a scoff. “What… You think we can’t be friends?” 

“Forgive me, but you know nothing about us. We know nothing about you.”

McCree paused, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I s’pose you’re right.” He stood up, standing in front of Hanzo with a wide grin. “Nice to meet’cha. Name’s Jesse McCree.” He held his hand out for a shake. 

Hanzo blinked in confusion. “We’ve already met,” he stated. 

“I know, but I never really introduced myself properly.”

“You have no need to,” Hanzo insisted. “It isn’t as though this meeting will lead to a friendship. We will leave, you’ll never see us again. Can’t you understand that?” 

McCree’s hand lowered to his hip. “Hm.”

“What?” 

“It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so passionate about somethin’ before. Kinda nice to know you’re certain about something.”

Despite McCree’s tone Hanzo could tell he was wounded. But it was true, wasn’t it? They weren’t there to make friends, they were there out of necessity. Still, McCree seemed to shake it off quickly, offering Hanzo a spot on his stool beside Betsy. 

“How about you come on inside for breakfast once you fill up that bucket?” McCree asked before heading out to do some more chores.

As it turned out, milking a cow was not as easy as Hanzo had been led to believe. By the time he got back to the house Genji was already cleaning up from breakfast. Hanzo couldn’t help but think it was McCree’s way of punishing him. 

In the afternoon, the brothers were in the barn, bailing hay. This work proved a lot more troublesome for Hanzo. His side felt like it was on fire as he crouched down to scoop the hay, then leaning up, then down again. Each movement caused him to grunt, not with effort but in pain. Eventually, he made a mistake. 

Tired, frustrated, Hanzo lifted a bail of hay on his own, tossing it onto the pile. But the twisting movement caused his wound to tear open under the wrappings and he had to brace himself against a beam. 

Genji paused, looking over at him. “Hanzo..?” Though Hanzo tried to wave him off, Genji insisted on looking at his bandages. They were starting to bleed through. 

Genji helped Hanzo up to the house where McCree was working on dinner. Ignoring McCree’s protests that they needed to take their boots off, he helped Hanzo into a chair at the table. “He’s hurt,” he said. McCree dropped what he was doing and went over, kneeling by Hanzo’s side. 

After taking a look at the wound, McCree did his best to wrap it again, but each movement caused Hanzo to hiss. Finally, McCree moved away. “I’ll have to call a doctor,” McCree said. 

“No. No doctors.”

“This doctor is discreet,” McCree promised. “No one will ever know they were here.” 

Though Hanzo was doubtful, he wasn’t in a position to argue, and the next morning a doctor came to call. When they arrived, knocking, Hanzo tensed. However, McCree crossed to the door and opened it, smiling. “Why if it isn’t Doctor Ziegler. If I might say, you’re lookin’ prettier than a magnolia in May.” 

A blond woman stepped inside, smiling kindly at McCree’s compliment. “Ever the charmer,” she replied, lightly. “Where is the patient?” 

“Here.” McCree led her to Hanzo, who was lying on the couch. 

“Hello,” Dr. Ziegler greeted. Hanzo was waiting for questions, but instead he received orders. “Sit up. Shirt off.” 

He did as he was told, letting the borrowed button-up flannel slide off his shoulders. The doctor opened her case and pulled out some scissors, cutting off the dirtied bandages. While she worked. McCree’s eyes trailed the tattoos along Hanzo’s chest and arm. It wasn’t hard to tell what that was from, but he decided not to comment. 

Eventually, the doctor stood. “No manual labor for a few days. Take these to stave off infection.” She handed Hanzo a pill bottle. “One in the morning, one in the evening, take them with food.” She turned to McCree who gave a nervous laugh. 

“Alright, alright, what’s the damage, Doc?”

“I’ll take a mix of vegetables if you wouldn’t mind,” she said with a sweet smile. 

“Oof,” McCree hissed. “Alright, alright, I think I can spare some. Why don’t you go with Genji, he can set you up.” 

Genji suddenly straightened as the woman stepped closer. “Lead the way, Mr. Genji.” 

“Yes, of course.” 

The pair slipped out the back door. Finally alone, McCree tutted at Hanzo. “Right mess you’re in, huh?” When Hanzo didn’t answer, McCree nodded to the front porch. “How’s about we go out for some air?” 

Sitting on the porch in the fresh air caused some relief to flood through Hanzo. As a cool wind blew the scent of fresh grass toward them, he let his eyes fall closed and tilted his head back. In that position he couldn’t see McCree studying his soft expression. 

“I think I’m ready to ask my question now,” McCree said, voice low.

His peace shattered, Hanzo shot the other a look. “Very well,” he murmured. Though he was reluctant, he knew there was no getting around it. He’d learned well by now that McCree was a stubborn man. 

“Is there any way I could… Convince you to stay?”

The question lingered between them as Hanzo tried to piece it together. “I… What?”

McCree let out an embarrassed chuckle. He leaned back a bit, staring up at the stars. “Guess that wasn’t the question you were expectin’, was it?” Hanzo didn’t reply. 

“Okay, okay,” McCree finally sighed. “Look… Thing is, I don’t really care where you’re from, how you got that wound, any of that stuff. I really just like havin’ you around. You and Genji, of course. I know the other day you said you’re leaving for certain but I just…” Bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair, McCree let out a frustrated noise. “It’s just that I like ya.” 

It was like McCree was speaking gibberish. Hanzo just couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was trying to say. “You hardly know me,” he shot back.

Chuckling again, McCree shook his head. 

“I know that you can’t milk a cow worth a damn,” he said. “I know that you care about your brother an awful lot, even if you two fight sometimes. I know you’re determined and don’t like to be told what’s what. I know when you’re motivated to do somethin’ you don’t stop until the job is done.” McCree finally returned his gaze to Hanzo, fixing him with a look that Hanzo just couldn’t place. 

“And I know… That whenever you walk in the room my heart skips a beat.”

Hanzo’s lips parted slightly as he tried to find words. No… No, this couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t stay here, this couldn’t happen. It was absolute madness, insanity, but…

But he could feel his own heart pounding in his chest as his eyes scanned over McCree’s expression. He looked hopeful, fearful, his cheeks just behind his beard dusted in pink. Hanzo sucked in a breath. 

He wanted to stay.

“Just put them in my truck.”

Dr. Ziegler’s voice cut through the night as Genji passed through the door with a bushel of vegetables. McCree jumped up to speak to the doctor, but the world around Hanzo felt chilled and muffled. He watched the blond woman leave, watched Genji hold the door for her, watched McCree wave as she left. But before McCree could turn back to speak with him again, he had slipped back into the house and to his room. 

He could barely hear McCree call, “Hanzo?” as he slipped away.

\---

It wasn’t easy to avoid McCree. The house was small, and he’d still agreed to do smaller tasks to earn his keep. What was easy was keeping Genji around so they could avoid talking in private. 

Things were tense, but McCree didn’t force him to talk. He tried to keep Hanzo’s chores light, but he always left him to his work to help Genji instead of sticking around. It was a relief, but also a bit of a distraction. There would come a time when McCree would want his answer, and the anticipation of that day was getting to Hanzo.

One night soon after Ziegler’s visit, Genji sat beside Hanzo in their room. “Will you tell me what’s been going on with you?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

Genji snorted. “It isn’t nothing, brother. I can tell you’ve been thinking.” He poked the spot between Hanzo’s eyebrows. “Your brow is furrowed. Something serious has happened.” 

“It’s nothing serious,” Hanzo argued, trying to keep himself from frowning more. 

“What did McCree talk to you about while I was helping the doctor?” Hanzo could hear the worry in his voice. “Did he ask about why we’re here? About your wound? Did you tell him?”

Hanzo shook his head. “He… Asked if we could stay.”

A silence fell. “And?”

“And what?”

“What did you say?”

With a scoff, Hanzo turned away. “I said nothing. I had no time to say anything. But it’s impossible anyway.” Genji looked like he wanted to argue but stayed quiet. “He doesn’t deserve the life we have… We’ve made trouble for ourselves, his is a simple and peaceful one.”

“I agree... “ Genji glanced out the window. The stars above were brighter than either of them had ever experienced before. Each night sky seemed more vast and colorful than the last. Out here, time moved to a crawl. Not like back home. Not like it usually was. 

“Staying here will only cause him more trouble,” Hanzo finally said. “I’m well enough that we can leave. Don’t you agree?”

Genji’s eyes lowered. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to stay as well. Maybe it was the tinkling laugh of the doctor who’d come to visit. Maybe it was McCree’s home cooked meals. Maybe it was the smell and the feel of this place. Whatever it was, he couldn’t be selfish. Hanzo was right; the longer they stayed the more dangerous it was. 

“We’ll leave tomorrow then,” he offered.

“No,” Hanzo sighed. “Best leave tonight.” 

They had no belongings to pack. The pair changed back into the clothes they’d worn the night they arrived. Hanzo’s shirt, though it had been cleaned, had a tear which revealed the bandages he still wore. Compared to the work clothes McCree had loaned them, the starched shirts and dress pants felt stifling and coarse. Genji tucked his piece into the back of his pants, pulling his suit jacket down to cover it. Hanzo placed his own in the holster under his own jacket. 

“Ready?” Genji asked. 

Hanzo didn’t reply. He was taking one last look out at the barn. Finally, he gave Genji a nod. 

The brothers began sneaking down the stairs, hoping to leave without accruing any questions from McCree, but a knock at the door stopped them in their tracks. They quickly backed up as McCree’s footsteps echoed over the hardwood floors.

A second knock, louder this time. McCree called out, “Hold yer horses!”

Swallowing, Hanzo briefly had the thought that they’d waited too long. The Clan was here, they were going to shoot McCree for keeping them hidden. Genji put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It didn’t slow his heart.

The door opened. McCree crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Evenin’, Gabriel,” he said. 

Hanzo and Genji exchanged a look. 

“It’s not polite to call on a fella so late,” McCree continued. No reply came. Shrugging, McCree stepped aside and a man in all black entered with two women. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?” 

The man, presumably Gabriel, took a seat in McCree’s favorite armchair. 

“You know why we’re here, Jesse.” 

His voice was deep, gruff and demanding. 

McCree kept a smile on his face, but it was clear there was something wrong. The women who’d come in with Gabriel fanned out, each taking a position on either side of the room. Hanzo’s heart was hammering again; this group clearly wasn’t here for a friendly chat. 

“I suppose I do,” McCree said. “Sad to say, though, I don’t actually have it.” He was rubbing the back of his head as though he were embarrassed. 

Gabriel kept his eyes trained on McCree. “Where is it, Jesse?”

“Dunno. Lost it some time ago.” 

The smaller woman with her head half shaved spoke up. “You expect us to believe you came here, to the middle of nowhere, and just up and lost it? It took us _ ages _ to find you.” 

McCree let out a chuckle. “And you lot should be commended for it! But I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t have what you’re lookin’ for.” 

The taller woman drew a gun. McCree didn’t flinch. 

“I don’t have time for games, Jesse,” Gabriel said. He stood, crossing the room until he was chest to chest with Jesse. “Where. Is. It?” 

McCree gave a slight shake of his head. “Sorry, friends. I told you. It’s gone. Now, I’d appreciate it if we could keep things civil.”

“Civility has long gone out the window,” the tall woman retorted, cocking her gun. 

Genji was reaching to draw his weapon, Hanzo’s hand tucked into his jacket to do the same. They could take out the women, but that still left Gabriel. And he was too close to McCree to risk getting a shot off. Hanzo was trying to calculate a way to gain the advantage when Gabriel spoke again. 

“That’s enough, Widow. We’re leaving.”

Without a word, the woman dubbed Widow replaced the safety and stored her weapon, making for the door. The shorter woman was not so easily instructed. 

“What? You’re telling me we came all the way out to bumble-fuck no where all for nothing? There’s no wifi! No nothing! You can’t be serious, Reyes.” 

“Get back in the car, Sombra,” Gabriel snapped. She huffed and puffed for a moment before following orders and disappearing out the door after Widow. For a moment, Gabriel and McCree stood silently together. 

McCree lowered his voice and said, “C’mon, Gabriel. We used to be in this together. You really wanna take this all away from me?” 

“It’s not just me who wants it,” Gabriel responded. “The Deadlocks are looking, too. I’m sure Overwatch won’t be too long after. It’s me, or one of them. And they won’t be kind enough to give you the chance to jog your memory.”

“You’re too kind,” McCree replied sarcastically. “So I s’pose that means you’ll be back.”

Gabriel stepped away, walking to the door. “Sundown tomorrow. You either give us what we want, or we’ll burn this place to the ground looking for it.” 

McCree furrowed his brow. “Explain to me why you’re giving me the option? I seem to recall Blackwatch didn’t give chances like this lightly.” 

Gabriel put a hand on the doorframe, glancing over his shoulder. “Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age. Or maybe, I know that killing you won’t do any good.” He stepped out onto the porch as he added, “We’ll be in touch.” 

There was the rev of a car engine starting, then the sound of it trundling up the dirt road and away. The silence after was deafening. Finally, McCree said to the empty room,

“Y’all can come out now.”

Hesitantly, Hanzo and Genji slipped into the room. McCree was still looking out the open door. 

Genji was the first to speak. 

“Who were they? What did they want?”

“They said very plainly who they were,” Hanzo pointed out, his brow furrowed. “Jesse…” 

Hanzo’s voice seemed to snap McCree out of his stupor. He turned to the brothers. His face was grim, something they hadn’t seen the whole time they’d been with him. 

He looked at their clothes, looked at their faces, then gave a sad smile. “Well that explains why you two were evesdroppin’. Probably wasn’t your fault to be honest.” He rubbed the back of his head, looking out the front window. “You should probably get a move on, though.”

“You… Can’t be serious,” Genji breathed. “They just said they were coming back. They-- they were _ threatening _ you--”

“Which means that if they found out you heard every word of it they’ll be after you next.” 

McCree turned his gaze to the pair, eyes intense. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing the Shimada clan ain’t particularly friendly with the gangs around these parts.” 

Hanzo’s retort froze in his throat. Genji was the first to recover.

“How did you..?”

“Oh come on,” McCree scoffed. “Y’all think I’m some dumb hick? Where do you think the guys who were chasing you went? You think they magically stopped chasin’ after you? _ Huh _?” 

His voice was getting louder with each sentence. Hanzo’s mouth opened slightly. 

“You knew… You knew the whole time who we were,” he breathed. “Why… Did you help us?” 

Shrugging, McCree said, “At first I was just doin’ what had to be done to keep myself from being discovered. I couldn’t have those yakuza bastards sellin’ my position. Musta missed one, though, because I was still found anyway.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

There was a moment of silence. McCree groaned. “I already told ya! It’s because I like ya, okay? But that doesn’t matter now, none of that matters. You two need to get the hell outta dodge before--”

“And you were in Blackwatch?” Hanzo interrupted. “What is that, another gang? Were you planning to sell us back to our father? Kill us? Keep us as pets?”

“_ What _?” McCree snapped. “Have you not been listening?”

There was a frustration on Hanzo’s face. “Who are you? Really. Who the _ hell _ are you, Jesse McCree?” He drew his gun, pointing it at the man. The farmer, the kind stranger, the liar he’d gotten to know this whole time. Was McCree even his real name? He couldn’t trust _ anything _ anymore. 

Genji took a step back. “Brother, don’t,” he insisted. “Listen to him.”

“Answer my questions,” Hanzo hissed. “Now.” 

McCree was holding his hands up to his shoulders. He was looking into Hanzo’s face, expression strangely calm. 

“My name is Jesse McCree,” he said, slowly. “I’m a farm boy from New Mexico who got caught up in a spot of trouble in my youth. A friend of mine converted me to a life of crime, and we joined the Deadlock gang. 

“When we got busted, I was given the choice to help the world or rot in a cell. I chose the former. Blackwatch isn’t what you think; it’s not a gang. Neither is Overwatch. They’re covert operations. I used to be a spy. But I gave up that life when I realized I wasn’t living for myself. I did all I could to redeem myself but the job was thankless and Blackwatch started doing things I couldn’t abide by. 

“But you don’t just get to _ stop _ being a spy. So I had to run. I did the only thing I knew, I started to farm again. I did it alone. I thought I’d die alone, Hanzo, until I met you and your brother.”

Hanzo slowly lowered his weapon. He’d never heard of Blackwatch or Overwatch, he had no reason to doubt what McCree said about them. But that still didn’t change that he’d lied by omission. 

“Genji,” Hanzo finally said. “We’re leaving.”

“Hanzo--”

“_ Now _.” 

Genji hesitated, looking over McCree then back at Hanzo. After a moment, he nodded and headed for the back door. 

McCree watched Genji go before looking back at Hanzo. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said, softly. “But I want you to know that if I kept anything from you, it was only ever to protect you.” He hesitated. “And… I meant what I said. About wanting you to stay…”

“Goodbye, McCree,” Hanzo replied, breezing past him. He ushered Genji out the back door, past the barn, into the fields, without a second look back. 

McCree stood still as the back door closed. He’d spent so long trying to rebuild himself and get his life back on track. It had all tumbled down in less than an hour. 

Well, he thought, there was no use standing around feeling sorry for himself. He turned to the fireplace, pressing a button under the mantle to pop open the top. A handful of weapons were hidden inside, along with a memory stick. He took it, tucking it away in his chest pocket. 

If Reyes and the others wanted it, they’d have to pry it from his cold, dead fingers. 

\---

“Hanzo! Hanzo, wait, please.” 

Genji finally convinced the other to stop after they’d walked for nearly an hour in stifling silence. He looked into his brother’s eyes, trying to find the right words. 

“We… Have to go back.” 

The slap hit him like a gunshot. Genji reeled, staring off to the side in shock. 

“He. Lied. To us,” Hanzo hissed. “He could have gotten us killed. He could have ratted us out. He could have blackmailed us!”

“But he didn’t!” Genji shouted. 

“Don’t be naive. Men like that, men like _ us _, they take what they want and they leave nothing behind. It was only a matter of time before--”

Suddenly, Genji grappled with Hanzo’s jacket collar, wrenching him close. “Listen to yourself! That man protected us, he _ saved _ us. He said it himself, he got rid of the others chasing after us!”

Scoffing, Hanzo snapped, “And you believed that drivel?”

“Stop pretending he’s a bad person just because you’re scared of your feelings for him!” 

Hanzo shoved Genji away hard enough to send his brother tumbling to the ground. “Shut up. Don’t pretend you know my feelings, Genji. You know _ nothing _.” 

“I know you well enough to tell you return his affection,” Genji snapped. “This is just an excuse to run away from that. You left him to die because you’d rather it be that than confronting how you feel!” 

“Enough!” 

Hanzo started to walk away. Genji scrambled to his feet, rushing closer and grasping Hanzo’s wrist. “They’re going to kill him, Hanzo,” he said. “Whatever it is that he has, they won’t leave without it. Are you _ really _ okay with letting Jesse die for your own selfish pride?” 

The older Shimada’s steps slowed. His hands were shaking; he balled them into fists. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jesse’s eyes, his laugh, his motherly clucking when they tracked dirt in the house. His chest had ached from the moment Jesse had confessed his feelings for him. 

“We… Have to hurry,” he finally replied. “If we want to make it back.”

\---

Reyes had told McCree he’d be back by sundown the next day to collect. McCree didn’t doubt that he meant to make good on his promise. What neither of them had banked on was the Deadlock Gang showing up before Reyes could. 

McCree had upturned his dining room table and was hiding behind it for cover, a hail of bullets ripping through his once-tidy kitchen. He’d reinforced the bottom of the table with metal just in case this ever happened, but he still wasn’t happy about the beautiful mahogany finish being stripped away. 

The bullets stopped. McCree waited, then experimentally held out a hat to one side. A bullet punctured it as soon as it was in view. 

“C’mon out, McCree!” 

Groaning, McCree rested his head back against the table. This was just perfect. He was sure he could hold out on the gang, but sooner or later either Ashe would get impatient or Reyes would show up. And so far there was no sign of his reinforcements. 

“You mind tellin’ me what you’re here for, Ashe?” McCree shouted in return. “Cause you never did ask properly.” 

“You know damn well what we want,” Ashe snapped back. “And you better hand it over.” 

“Now where have I heard that before,” McCree sighed to himself. 

He was outgunned, outnumbered, and, frankly, in some deep shit. He’d been in tighter spots, sure, but he had to admit, he was out of practice. Taking a few deep breaths, he started to count down from ten. No plan in mind, he just knew he needed to do something or they’d flank him. 

He reached four when he heard the gunshots.

“What the--” 

Ashe’s exclamation was interrupted. McCree’s breathing was short as he listened. Had Reyes come back already?

“Jesse?” 

Eyes widening, McCree poked his head out of his cover. “Hanzo..?” 

The Shimada brothers were swathed in a golden glow as the sun began to rise over the barn behind them. All around, the Deadlocks laid at their feet. Hanzo took a step, then two, then rushed to McCree’s side and helped him up. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

McCree threw his arms around him, holding him tight. “Shit, I’ve never been more glad to see anyone in my life,” he breathed, slowly letting go. “I thought I was a goner for sure, how in the hell did you--”

Hanzo silenced him with a firm kiss. It lasted only a moment, but it worked well enough. 

“As much as I would like to say we’ll be staying,” Hanzo began, “I have a feeling the farm isn’t safe anymore.” 

“No shit,” Genji snorted, kicking aside a shredded piece of the door. 

“Regardless,” Hanzo continued. “I perhaps… Overreacted.”

McCree gave a bashful smile in return. “Well, I didn’t exactly tell you the whole truth,” he said. “But that’ll be different now.” 

“Do you have a place we can go?” 

“Sure do. Just gotta grab my bug-out bag and we can make tracks.” 

“What about the farm?” Genji asked. 

McCree let out a long sigh. “I’ll sure miss it. But ain’t nothin’ I can do about it anymore. It’s not safe.” 

Hanzo nodded in agreement. “Get your things. We’ll find someplace better.” He paused, then added, “Together.” 

“Well shoot, Darlin,” McCree said with a grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
